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Followed by F^te 



A Melodrama in Four Acts 



By Jlrthur Lewis Tuhbs 

Author of "Dinner at Six/' "The Fruit of His Folly/' etc. 



PHILADELPHIA 

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
1 s»o:3 






THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

JUN 26 1903 

Copyngnt Entry 
( 'CLASS JQ XXc No, 
COPY B. 



Copyright 1903 by The Penn Publishing Company 



3* 



■0 



. . • • • ••» • ••• ••• • - 



Followed by Fate 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Robert Winslow, proprietor of " The Daily Review." 
Seth Winslow, ..... his brother. 

Harold La Motte, ... an adventurer. 

Walter Gifford, .... a reporter. 

Mr. Johnson, ...... a printer. 

Tad, .... a newspaper ' ' devil. ' ' 

Officers. 

Phcebe Ashcroft, stenographer for " The Daily Review." 
Ada Ludlow, . . <* . • • an heiress. 

Mrs. Ellison Dunbar-Everly-Griggs, unused to riches. 
Lily May, ..... her darling child. 

Sallie Pockett, .... Phoebe 's maid: 



SYNOPSIS 

Act I 
Office of The Daily Review. The arrest. 

Act II 
At Mrs. Everly-Griggs' soiree musicale. A voice from 
the past. 

Act III 
Phoebe Ashcroft's home. The threat. 

Act IV 
At Mrs. Everly-Griggs'. Retribution. 



Time in Representation : — Two Hours and Twenty 
Minutes. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

Robert Winslow. Act I, a plain business suit ; Act II, 
evening dress ; Act IV, similar to Act I. He is a dignified 
man of forty or thereabouts. 

Seth. A neat business suit in Acts I, III and IV; in Act 
II, evening dress. He is about twenty-five years of age, 
impulsive, and in Act I shows some signs of dissipation. 
Later, he seems somewhat subdued and gradually changes 
for the better. He is a character which wins admiration in 
spite of his faults. 

La Motte. A handsome, fascinating man of the world, a 
few years older than Seth. He has a rather florid complexion 
and his hair is mixed with gray about the temples and on 
top. He dresses stylishly, wearing evening dress in Act II, 
and handsome cut-away or frock-coat suit in Acts III and 
IV. Jaunty appearance, silk hat, flower in buttonhole, etc. 

Gifford. Ordinary business suit in Act I, dress suit in 
Act II and neat clothes in Act IV. He is an energetic young 
fellow, quick of movement and speech. 

Johnson. Working clothes, no coat, apron, sleeves rolled 
up. His apron and hands are much soiled with printer's 
ink, etc. He is a middle-aged man. 

Tad. As small a boy as can be procured to play the 
part. Should be a typical smart, slangy youngster. In 
Act I he is dressed similarly to Johnson ; wears an apron 
black with ink and dirt and his hands and face are also 
smeared. In Act III he is clean and wears his dress-up suit. 

Phcebe. Act I, a neat but plain dress, with hat for en- 
trance. Act II, a handsome evening gown, not too elabo- 
rate. Act III, modest house dress. Act IV similar to Act I, 
with hat. 

Ada Ludlow. Stately and somewhat haughty, though 
not necessarily a disagreeable character. In Act II she 
wears a very handsome and elaborate evening gown, with 
jewels. In Act IV, an elegant house dress. 

Mrs. Griggs. A parvenu. She wears in Act I a hand- 
some morning street costume ; in Act II a most elaborate 



6 COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS 

evening gown and many jewels, flowers, etc. Act IV, rich 
house costume. She is always overdressed, as if with a 
desire to show how much she can afford. Should appear as 
a woman of nearly fifty attempting to look much younger ; 
puts on many airs and gives the impression of being new to 
the wealth which she possesses. 

Lily May. A large, overgrown girl of about seventeen, 
dressed like a child of ten, with short skirts. In Act I, a 
light dress, pink or blue sash, large hat, etc. Act II, child's 
white evening dress, with large sash. Her hair is in long 
braids, or flowing down her back, in first two Acts. In Act 
IV she is attired as a young lady, in a becoming dress with 
long skirt; her hair is done up. The contrast should be 
pronounced. 

Sallie Pockett. A gawky country girl of slovenly ap- 
pearance. She wears a rather short calico dress, showing 
her striped stockings and large, clumsy shoes ; hair in pig- 
tails. When she walks she drags her feet along the floor, 
and she speaks in a drawling tone. 



PROPERTIES 



Act I. Newspapers, proofs, pieces of copy, shears, ink- 
wells, pens, pencils, waste-basket; newspapers and letters, 
for morning mail. Typewriter; telephone on desk r., or 
hanging against wall. 

Act II. Dance cards. 

Act III. Tablecloth ; tray with plate, cup and saucer ; 
teapot containing steaming hot tea ; plate of toast, another 
with meat. Several roses. Vase. A revolver. 

Act IV. Revolver. Roll of bills. 



NOTICE TO PROFESSIONALS 

This play is published for amateur production only. 
Professionals are forbidden the use of it in any form or 
under any title without the consent of the author, who may 
be addressed in care of the publishers, 



Followed by Fate 



ACT I 

SCENE. — The editorial rooms of The Daily Review. Door 
in flat leading to street, another r. u. e. to the composing 
room. There is a desk r., with revolving office chair ; 
also waste-basket, piles of newspapers, hooks of " copy," 
proofs, etc., all the characteristic belongings and sur- 
roundings of a well-equipped newspaper office. A tele- 
phone hangs against wall of flat, r. c. ; at L. another 
desk, or a table, on 7vhich is a typewriter, writing ma- 
terials, etc. Also a small table up l. Discovered, 
Robert Winslow at desk r., reading proof. After 
short pause, Tad enters d. f., with a dozen or more 
papers, and some letters. These he places on desk by 
Robert as he speaks. 

Tad. Here's the mail, Mr. Winslow. 

Robert. All right, Tad. (Tad is about to exit r.) 
Here, take this proof in. (Tad takes proof and again 
starts.) Bring me a revise as soon as possible. 

Tad. Yes, sir. 

Robert. And Tad 

Tad {pausing). Well, sir? 

Robert. Tell Johnson I'd like to see him a minute. 

Tad. Yes, sir. 

{Exit Tad r.) 

(Robert opens letters and glances at them, laying some on 
desk, placing others in pigeon-holes. After a pause, 
Johnson enters r. and stands a moment before speaking.) 

Johnson. Tad said you wanted to see me, Mr. Winslow. 
Robert {looking up). Oh, yes. Why,— a — Johnson, 

7 



8 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

what time did Seth leave the office yesterday? (He wheels 
around in chair, facing Johnson.) 

Johnson. It was — well, I should say about four o'clock. 

Robert. That's what I thought. And he hasn't shown 
up yet this morning. That's about the way he has been at- 
tending to business lately. I'm afraid he hasn't been of 
much help to you out in the other room, has he ? 

Johnson. Well, no, sir; but of course, being your 
brother 

Robert. Being my brother has nothing to do with it. 
He is the foreman, I pay him a good salary, and he ought 
to attend to business. (Phcebe Ashcroft enters quietly d. 
f. , unnoticed, re?noves her hat and sits at desk l. , beginning 
to look over some paper s.~) I have let the brother part of it 
make a difference, so far, but my patience is about played 
out. If it keeps on, I'm afraid we shall have to have a new 
foreman. That's all, Johnson. (Phcebe has glanced around 
anxiously and then resumed her work.) Send me in a re- 
vise of that editorial as soon as you can. 

Johnson. Yes, sir. (He is about to exit, but sees 
Phcebe and speaks to her.) Good-morning, Miss Ashcroft. 

Phcebe {looking around). Good-morning, Mr. Johnson. 

(Exit Johnson r. ; Robert turns about in his chair and 
looks at Phcebe. ) 

Robert. Ah, good-morning, Miss Ashcroft. I didn't 
hear you come in. 

Phcebe (smiling). I haven't been here long. I'm afraid 
I'm a little late this morning, but I met one or two people 
who had some items to give me 

Robert. Oh, don't make any apologies. It isn't neces- 
sary. I hadn't thought a thing about it. I suppose you 
heard what I was just saying to Mr. Johnson about my 
brother ? 

Phcebe. Do you think it will really be necessary ? — that 
is, I hope it is not so bad as you said. 

Robert. Miss Ashcroft, I don't want to be hard on 
Seth ; I don't want you to think that I am. But it really 
does seem necessary to do something to make him mend his 
ways. 

Phcebe (rising and going to a). But to discharge him, 
to perhaps send him away where your influence ? 

Robert. Have I any influence over him ? Does it look 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 9 

like it? Why, I have been patient with him — more than 
patient; don't you know that I have? I have talked with 
him as kindly as I could, then I have scolded him. It does 
no good. He promises, and then goes right along as 
before. 

Phcebe, You have been kind and patient, Mr. Winslow ; 
I know it. But don't you think you can give him still an- 
other chance and — excuse me, you must think me very for- 
ward to speak thus to you. • 

Robert. Not at all. And I'll do as you say; I'll have 
another serious talk with Seth and see if I can't bring him 
to his senses. At any rate, I'll give him a further trial and 
try my best to straighten it all out. By the way, here are 
one or two letters I wish you would answer. You'll know 
what to say. There's no particular hurry about them. 

Phcebe (taking letters and returning to her desk). Very 
well. Then I will write out my items first. {She sits and 
begins writing.) 

Robert. I declare, Miss Ashcroft, you'll beat Gifford 
getting news, if you keep on. What is it now ? 

Phcebe. Oh, nothing very important ; only two or three 
personals. The best is about Miss Ludlow. She has re- 
turned from Europe. 

Robert. You don't say? She's been gone more than a 
year, hasn't she? 

Phcebe. Yes, a year and a half. You know, she let her 
house to Mrs. Everly-Griggs, and she is staying there. 

Robert. I see. Well, that's a pretty good item. 

Phcebe. Yes, and then I have some more particulars 
about Mrs. Griggs' party to-morrow evening. It is to be 
quite a grand affair. 

Robert. I suppose so. She will just spread herself, no 
doubt. She has plenty of money to do it with. It's a pity 
she can't buy more brains with some of it. (Phcebe 
smiles.) Well, I don't suppose I ought to say that, but you 
know how she is. No doubt she has a perfect right to all 
the hyphens in her name, seeing she's a widow for the third 
time, and of course she has a right to her money too ; her 
last husband was kind enough to make a fortune all of a 
sudden and then die. But when she tries to pass herself off 
as a dashing young widow, and that overgrown daughter 
of hers as a child, — well, it's almost too much. But then, 
she'll make society news, so we don't want to lose sight of 



Id FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Mrs. Ellison Dunbar-Everly-Griggs. (He turns to his desk 
and Phcebe laughingly does the same.) 

(Enter Tad, r.) 

Tad. Mr. Johnson says he'd like to see you a minute, 
Mr. Winslow, about them ads. He says he d' know where 
y' want that Boston Store ad put, 'r some o' them reading 
notices. 

Robert [rising). All right. Send that copy out as 
soon as you have it ready, please, Miss Ashcroft. 

Phcebe. Yes, sir. 

{Exit Robert, r.) 

Tad. Say, the boss has been blowing about Seth again, 
hain't he? I wouldn't wonder if he got the bounce. He 
ought t'. 

Phcebe. Why do you think so, Tad ? Hasn't Mr. Seth 
been kind to you ? (She gives him several pieces of 
"copy") 

Tad. Aw, I ain't kickin' about that, but why shouldn't 
he, if he don't stick t' business? He ain't no better 'n the 
rest of us, if he is the boss's brother. I reckon he'll find it 
out, too. 

Phcebe. I think you would do well to speak a little more 
respectfully of him, at any rate. 

Tad. Aw say, I didn't mean nuthin'. I forgot he was 
your feller. 

Phcebe (rising and turning indignantly ipon Tad). 
Tad, how dare you say that? He is nothing of the sort. 
You are altogether too officious ! 

Tad. Gee ! Well, you needn't get mad about it. If 
he ain't in love with you, I'll eat my shirt. And you him ! 
(He runs out r., laughing mischievously. Phcebe stands 
looking after him, flushed and indignant. ) 

Phcebe (after a pause, in a softened manner). But it is 
true ! Yes, I do love him, and I hope — I am sure — he loves 
me ! (She turns and again sits at her desk, Just as Wal- 
ter Gifford bustles in c. d.) 

Walter. Ah, good-morning. Got a fine piece of news. 

Phcebe. Have you? What's it about? 

Walter (%oing to table up l. and preparing to write). 
Gambling-house raided last night down on Perry Street. 
Two men arrested. 



FOLLOWED BY FATE II 

Phcebe. Who were they ? 

Walter. Didn't get the names. Hurried up here to 
write enough for the first edition, then I'm going to the 
police station to get the names. They say one man 
skipped out the back door and got away. 

Phcebe. How sad it is. 

Walter. Sad ? Pshaw ! makes good news. Deserve 
to get arrested, don't they? Wish there'd be a few more 
such doings in this place, so we'd have something to fill up 
with. No fun reporting in this one-horse place. Nothing 
ever happens. (He is busily writing , talking at the same 
time. ) 

Phcebe. I should say a great deal happens ; Miss Lud- 
low back from Europe, and (She is busy using her 

typewriter ; pausing now and then as she speaks. ) 

Walter. Yes, and did you hear about it ? They say 
she's engaged, or as good as. Lily May Griggs told me. 

Phcebe. Lily May ? Why, when do you ever see her ? 

Walter. Oh, times enough, on the sly. She isn't so 
slow as some people think. It's a shame the way her 
mother keeps her dressed like a kid and tries to pass her off 
as one. But she'll rebel some day, and when she does — 
well, watch out for a circus. 

Phcebe. So you know her ? 

Walter. Know her ? Of course I do. We met at a 
church sociable a year or so ago, and after that at one or 
two places, and— well, now Lily May steals away and meets 
me. Don't you give us away ! 

Phcebe. Why, no ; but it isn't right, Mr. Gifford. How 
can you encourage a young girl to deceive her mother ? 

Walter. I couldn't, I don't suppose, under ordinary 
circumstances, but when a girl's kept under the way she is, 
and made to look foolish of by a vain, unreasonable mother 
like Mrs. Griggs, I think she has a right to look out for herself 
a little. Now, don't you, when you come right down to it ? 
Be candid, now. 

Phcebe. Well, I do see some excuse for Lily May, but 
— no, no girl can have a sufficient excuse for deceiving her 
mother. 

Walter. Mm, — well, maybe you're right ! I suppose 
you are. But we've decided to come right out and tell her 
mother the whole thing. 

Phcebe. The whole thing ? 



12 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Walter. Why, yes. That we're in love, you know, 
and 

Phcebe: Oh ! I didn't quite understand. So that's it? 

Walter. Y-yes. I suppose Mother Griggs'll have a 
fit, but she might as well have it first as last. You're going 
to the party to-morrow night, aren't you? 

Phcebe. Oh, yes. I am to sing, you know. 

Walter. Sure enough. It's to be a kind of a concert, 
too, isn't it ? Ball, reception, concert, and a little of every- 
thing. It's a wonder she let Lily May invite me. But 
then, of course she doesn't suspect anything. 

Phcebe. And then, you will have to write it up, no 
doubt. 

Walter. I presume. Well, I'll get you to help me — 
about the dresses and so on. We'll make a swell article of 
it — a whole column or so, with a scare head. {The tele- 
phone bell rings. ) Would you just as soon answer that ? 
I want to finish this article. 

Phgebe {going to telephone and answering the call). 
Hello ! Yes, this is the Review cffice. Yes, he's here. 
Who is this, please? Police station ? {To Walter.) It's 
the police station, Mr. GirTord. 

Walter. Probably something about this arrest. Ask 
them. 

Phcebe {speaking in 'phone'). Hello. Can't I take it ? 
{She pauses each time long enough for another to speak. ) 
Very well, I will call him. Wait a minute. {Laying down 
the receiver.) They want to speak to Mr. Winslow. 
{Going to r. and calling.) Mr. Winslow ! There is some 
one on the 'phone who wishes to speak to you. 

{She returns to her desk and resumes typewriting. Robert 
enters and goes to 'phone. Walter continues busily 
writing. ) 

Robert. Hello ! Yes. What's that ? What— Seth ? 
You — hello! What about it? {There is a longer pause, 
during which Robert becomes considerably agitated.) Yes, 
I'll come at once. {Turning from ' phone and getting his 
hat.) I've have to go out, Miss Ashcroft. I'll be back as 
soon as I can. {At D. f.) GirTord, tell Johnson to hold 
the first edition till he hears from me. If I can't get back, 
I'll 'phone. 

{Exit Robert hurriedly.) 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 1 3 

Walter. What's up now, I wonder? 

Phcebe. He has gone to the police station. It is some- 
thing about Mr. Seth. What if 

Walter {jumping up). I know. Seth was in that 
gambling scrape last night. He's arrested. 

Phcebe. Oh, no ! It cannot be. 

Walter. I'll bet you. He's been gambling lately, that's 
what's been the matter, and Il'l bet anything he's one of 
those fellows they caught. 

(Phcebe has risen, noiv sinks back into her chair, trembling. 
Johnson enters r.) 

Johnson. Where'd the boss go, Gifford ? 

Walter. To the police station. He said to hold the 
first edition till you hear from him. Here, you can have 
this set up and it'll be ready in case he says to go ahead. 
(He gives Johnson the copy he has prepared.) I'll run 
down there myself and see what it's all about. {He takes 
his hat and goes rapidly out d. f. Johnson is about to 
exit r.) 

Phcebe. Oh, Mr. Johnson, you don't think it is true, do 
you ? 

Johnson. What, Miss Ashcroft? 

Phcebe. That Mr. Seth is arrested. It cannot be. 

Johnson. Oh, I hope not. I knew he hadn't been ex- 
actly straight lately, but I hope it hasn't come to that. 
{There is a knocking on door in f.) Well, now, who do 
you suppose doesn't know any more than to knock at a 
printing-office ? {He goes and opens door, admitti7ig Mrs. 
Everly-Griggs and Lily May.) 

Mrs. Griggs [looking curiously about). Is this the pub- 
licating office of The Review ? 

Johnson. Yes, ma'am. 

Mrs. Griggs. I thought it was. {She comes down ; Lily 
May hangs back.) Lily May, you sit down and be quiet, 
like a good girl. {She sees Phcebe. Johnson exits r.) 
Oh, Miss Ashcroft, it's you, isn't it? You're the very one 
1 wanted to see. 

( Phcebe has risen and now comes forward ; Mrs. Griggs 
shakes hands with her, using an exaggerated high shake.) 



14 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Phcebe. Good -morning, Mrs. Griggs. Won't you be 
seated ? {Offering her a chair.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Thank you. {She sits. Lily May is 
seated back near door.) Oh, this is my little daughter, 
Lily May. You know her, I believe ? 

Phcebe. Oh, yes. How do you do? {To Lily May.) 

Lily May. How do you do? 

Mrs. Griggs. Don't you go and meddle with anything, 
Lily May. She's so mischeevous, Miss Ashcroft. I don't 
take her out with me very often, but when I do, she is such 
a care. 

Phcebe. She is getting to be quite a young lady, isn't she ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, no ! Lily May is only thirteen, but 
she's large of her age. It doesn't seem but yesterday she 
was an innocent little cherup. 

Lily May {who is fussing with her sash). Why, ma, I 
am almost 

Mrs. Griggs {quickly). Lily May, stop fussing with 
your sash ! You'll muss it all up. Dear me, will you never 
learn to be a good little girl ? 

Lily May. I'm afraid not, ma, if I keep on growing. 
{She giggles.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Be quiet, you saucy child ! You see, 
Miss Ashcroft, she is quite incorridgible. Well, I came to see 
you, Miss Ashcroft, about your singing to-morrow night. 
Of course you won't disappoint us ? 

Phcebe. I shall be prepared to sing, if you desire it, 
although I am sure you could find some one who would give 
your guests more pleasure. 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, no, indeed. I have heard your sing- 
ing lorded to the skies. It's going to be a miscellaneous 
sort of an entertainment — a variety, you know. I don't 
think people like too much of one thing. You must be sure 
and sing. I expect to have a very nice progrum. {Rising.) 
Well, I guess we'd better be going. I just dropped in to 
make sure. 

Phcebe. You may depend upon me. I hear Miss Lud- 
low is back from Europe ? 

Mrs. Griggs, Yes, she came quite unexpectedly. She's 
had a grand time and received several offers. I imagine 
she's engaged, too, or soon will be. Well, he'll get a rich 
wife. I suppose you'll have it in Th Review all about the 
entertainment ? 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 15 

Phcebe. Oh, yes, I dare say we will cover it. 

Mrs. Griggs. Do what ? 

Phcebe. I mean write it up ; have a full account. 

(Tad enters r. with proof. He stands ogling Lily May, 
who smiles at him. They are unnoticed by the others.) 

Mrs. Griggs. I'll send the carriage for you, Miss Ash- 
croft, at — say half-past eight. (She now sees Lily May and 
Tad, who are acting a little pantomime.*) Child, with whom 
are you conversing ? 

Tad. I'm the devil, ma'am. 

Mrs. Griggs (horrified). The ! Goodness gra- 
cious ! Lily May, come away instantly from that odorous 
ruffian who assumes to swear in our very presence ! Boy, 
how dare you use such a profaneous word before my inno- 
cent offspring ? (She has taken Lily May by the hand and 
drawn her away from Tad, who stands R. c, grinning.) 

Tad. That ain't swearin'. Don't you know what the 
devil is? He's the kid in a printin' -office what does the 
nasty work fer nothin'. 

Phcebe (laughing in spite of herself). Tad, give me the 
proof and go back in the other room. (She takes the proof 
and Tad goes r., pausing in door. Lily May giggles.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Lily May, stop giggling ! I shall have 
to catechise you when we get home. Good-day, Miss Ash- 
croft. 

(She goes out d. f. , pulling Lily May by the hand. Lily 
May looks back, with a smothered titter. Her mother 
gives her a vigorous jerk and she stumbles as she goes out 
of the door. ) 

Tad (going and looking after Mrs. Griggs and Lily 
May). Say, wouldn't they jar y' ? 

Phcebe. . Why, Tad ! 

Tad. Well, wouldn't they? That Mis' Griggs puts on 
more airs than a windmill, and that girl, — gosh ! they give 
me a pain ! 

Phcebe. Dear me, Tad, I wish you wouldn't use such 
dreadful slang. Here, take this copy in. 

(She gives him some copy ; he grins and exits r., as Robert 
enters p, f, Phcebe rises as she sees him.) 



1 6 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Phcebe. Oh, Mr. Winslow, what has happened ? Won't 
you tell me? 

Robert. I'd rather not, Miss Ashcroft. 

Phcebe. But I know. Your brother has been arrested. 

Robert. Yes. 

Phcebe. But you can save him ? You can prevent his 
arrest from becoming known ? 

Robert. I hope so. I have bailed him and will pay 
whatever fine is necessary. I trust we can keep his disgrace 
secret. I will tell Johnson to see that nothing goes in the 
paper about the affair last night ; that is all that I can do. 
[Starts r., then turns again.*) But this must end it. If he 
gets in such a scrape again, he shall suffer the consequences. 
Can you blame me ? 

Phcebe. Perhaps not; but I am sure this will be the 
last. 

Robert. Let us hope that it may be. 

{Exit Robert r.) 

{As Phcebe returns to her desk, Walter Gifford hurries 
in d. f.) 

Walter. It was Seth ! 

Phcebe. Yes, I know. Mr. Winslow is here. He has 
gone to tell Mr. Johnson not to put anything in the paper 
about it. 

Walter. Yes, of course; that's just the way. Spoil 
the best piece of news we've had in a dog's age ! It's a 
shame ! 

Phcebe. But would you have Mr. Winslow publish his 
own brother's disgrace? 

Walter. Well, he might leave his name out. Folks'll 
hear there has been some kind of a row, and say we are 
dead slow for not having a word about it. That's news- 
paper enterprise for you ! Well, suppose I'll have to go and 
hunt up something else now — some Ladies' Aid Society 
meeting, a new fence, or something exciting like that. 
Darn the luck ! 

{He rushes out d. f. slamming the door behind him. As he 
goes out, Seth eomes in; he is somewhat agitated, bat at- 
tempts to act naturally.) 

Seth, Good-morning, Phoebe, 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 1 7 

Phcebe. Oh, Seth ! {Going toward him, the '?i pausing, 
as if almost afraid to speak to him.) 

Seth. What ? Anything the matter ? 

Phcebe. N-no. 

Seth. Yes, there is. I'm late. I suppose Rob has been 
finding fault about it. Where is he? 

Phcebe. In the composing room. {She is almost in 
tears and turns away from him to hide her emotion.) 

Seth. All right. Why, what's the matter? You — ■ 
you're crying ? 

Phcebe {looking at hint). No, I'm not. 

Seth. You were. What is it about ? 

Phcebe. I Oh, Seth, I have been so worried 

about you. 

Seth. About me? {He approaches her with tefider- 
ness.) That's too bad. Don't you know you ought not to 
do that ? I was all right. 

Phcebe. All right, Seth ? 

Seth. Why, yes, I {Looking keenly at her :) You 

— you know — of {She assents.) Rob has told you! 

{Angrily.) I might have known. {He draws away from 
her.) 

Phcebe. No, Seth. There came a telephone message 
from the police station. I guessed it. Mr. Winslow was 
not the one who told me. 

Seth. He would, though. He is always trying to prej- 
udice you against me. 

Phcebe. You wrong him. You have no right to be 
angry with him, after all he has done for you, and the 
patience 

Seth {bitterly). Oh, he has been filling you with ad- 
miration for his brotherly affection and liberality, has he ? 
{He is standing c. ; she l. c.) Well, I fail to see it. Am 
I not simply a workman in his office, when by good rights I 
ought to be his partner ? 

Phcebe. And so you might be, no doubt, had you 
proved worthy. Yes, Seth, I am going to speak plainly, for 
I think it is best. You are most ungrateful when you feel 
and speak as you do. 

Seth. I — suppose I am. It would serve me right if he 
let me go to the dogs. But — well, Phoebe, the fact is, I am 
in a worse fix than either you or he know anything about. 

Phcebe. Why, he will pay your fine 



1 8 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Seth. That is not all. Last night I lost over four hun- 
dred dollars gambling. 

Phcebe. Oh, Seth ! 

Seth. Yes, and I can't pay it. I haven't a cent. I 
owe it to a stranger, a man who called himself Albert Ben- 
ner. He seems to be a professional gambler, a thorough 
scoundrel and a cheat. He threatens me, if I do not pay 
him the money inside of a week. I don't know what to do. 

Phoebe. But this man ? Can he make you pay? 

Seth. He will. If I don't, he will make lots of 
trouble for me. I have no doubt he is a desperate char- 
acter, who would stop at nothing. 

Phcebe. But was he not arrested too ? 

Seth. No, indeed, not he. He skipped out the back 
door and got away. Oh, he's a slick one. You don't often 
get the best of those fellows. I was a fool to play with him, 
but he was cunning enough to get me half intoxicated and 
then lead me on. Yes, I know it was disgraceful. I regret 
it all now, but what good does that do? It doesn't pay my 
debt. 

Phcebe. You must tell your brother. 

Seth. I dare not. He is angry enough already. If he 
knew the worst, he would throw me over at once. 

Phcebe. You misjudge him. Tell him all and promise 
to do better. Promise, Seth, and stick to it. He will give 
you another chance. 

Seth. Is there no other way ? 

Phcebe. You know I haven't the money, Seth. 

Seth. Oh, I didn't mean that ! 

Phcebe. I know it. But if I did have it, I would give 
it to you at once. But it is best that you should tell your 
brother. Then try, — oh, try to do better, to be what I 
want you to be and what you are at heart — a good, trust- 
worthy and noble man. 

Seth. I will, Phcebe, with your help. You will help 
me? 

Phcebe. Yes, Seth. 

Seth. As — as my wife ? Say yes, Phcebe ; say that you 
will be my wife, and then I can do anything. 

Phcebe {drawing away slightly, as he attempts to embrace 
her). I — don't, Seth. Oh, why have you spoken of this 
now? 

Seth. You knew ; you must have known. Could you 



Followed by fa?£ 1Q 

not see? Ah, you know I love you, and that I want you to 
be mine. Won't you say you will be ? 

Phcebe. I cannot ; not now. There is something I must 
tell you ; some other time. Wait. 

Seth. There is nothing you must tell me except that you 
love me and will be my wife. That is all I ask. 

Phcebe. But there is something else, Seth ; something 
that you must hear. Remember, you know nothing of my 
past ; nothing of my family nor my home before I came 
here three years ago. 

Seth. All that is nothing to me. 

Phcebe. It may be something, more than you think 
now, when you have heard it. I will tell you everything at 
the first opportunity, then if you still want me to be your 
wife, — well, I will give you my answer then. Now I am 
going to send your brother to you. You have something to 
say to him. (He would kiss her, but she smiles reprov- 
ingly, with a gentle gesture of remo7istrance, and goes R.) 

Seth. No, not yet. Wait. 

Phcebe. It will never be easier than now. 

{Exit Phcebe r.) 

Seth (standing in dejection, looking after her, till Rob- 
ert enters'): Well, Rob, I am here. 

Robert. Yes, Seth, I see you are. Well, do you want 
to go to work ? 

Seth. Yes. But first, I have something to say to you. 

Robert. Is it necessary ? I understand it all. If you 
are willing to start new and prove that you mean what you 
say when you promise to do better, why, that's all there is 
of it. I am willing to overlook everything that has passed 
and never mention it again. 

Seth {confused). Yes, but, that isn't all. I mean, — 
the fact is, there is something else. 

Robert. Something else? 

Seth. Yes. I — I need some money. 

Robert. Well, I will advance you a week's salary. 
{Taking out his pocketbook and giving Seth money.) No, 
I'll give it to you, and you shall have your salary just the 
same at the end of the week. 

Seth. You are generous, and I thank you, but 

Robert. Oh, that's all right. Don't say anything about 
it. Come, we'd better be getting the paper to press. 



10 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Seth. In a moment. But first, I want to speak to yoii 

about {Seems about to tell what is on his mind, but 

wavers and turns away as if he had not the courage.) 

Robert. Well, what? 

Seth. Never mind now \ another time will do. (Rob- 
ert starts to exit?) No, wait. I — I want to ask you to do 
all you can to keep the affair of last night a secret ; not only 
for my sake, but for — hers. 

Robert (pausing and turning to Seth with a keen 
look). Hers? 

Seth. Miss Ashcroft — Phoebe. I want to prove worthy 
of her. I want to make her my wife. 

Robert. Your wife ! Can you think of such a thing 
now, with such a stain to wash away ? Do you dare think 
of asking such a pure, lovely woman as she to become your 
wife? No, not until you have proven yourself a man, 
and 

Seth {firing up). Oh, she knows that I am not the 
model man you profess to be, but she has a better opinion 
of me than you have. I have told her I love her and asked 
her to be my wife. 

Robert. It was an insult to her, after what has hap- 
pened. 

Seth (angrily). You dare? 

Robert. Yes. You are not fit to be any woman's hus- 
band. 

Seth. You ! 

[Raises his hand to strike him, but catches sight of Phoebe, 
who has entered r., and stands looking at him. He lets 
his arm fall and draws back to L. c, flushed with anger. 
Robert has faced him calmly, but now sees Phoebe, and 
without a word passes her and exits r. She advances to 
c, her eyes fixed sternly upon Seth.) 

Phoebe. Are you a coward, after all ? 

Seth. I had cause. He 

Phoebe. Nothing can excuse what you have dene. 
(Pointing indignantly r.) Go ! Apologize to him at once, 
or never speak to me again ! 

(He tries to face her, but his eyes fall and he slowly exits 
r. , in a shamefaced maimer . She stands looking after him.) 

END OF ACT I 



ACT II 

SCENE. — The reception r 00771 in Mrs. Everly-Griggs' 
reside7ice ; an elegantly furnished apartme7it. Double 
doors at the back open to a hall which leads r. to ballroofn 
a7id\.. to the co/iservatory. There is a table down r. ; sofa, 
chairs, etc., about stage. A71 orchestra is heard softly 
playi7ig a waltz in the ballroom. As curtai7t rises, Ada 
Ludlow enters Q..fro7n l., attended by Harold La Motte. 
They are laughing and chatting. 

Ada. Yes, Mr. La Motte, it was a complete surprise, 
meeting you here to-night. You know, I had not seen you 
since we parted in Paris. 

La Motte. I arrived from Europe only a week ago, and 
lost no time in coming here. I could not remain long away 
from your side. There was nothing in Europe to attract me 
after you left. 

Ada. Oh, you flatterer ! I fear you men are all alike ! 

La Motte. No, no ; they don't all love you as I do. 
None of them do. (She makes a slight remonstrance.) No, 
you cannot, you must not put me off any longer. You said 
you would give me your answer when next we met 

Ada. But I did not think it was to be so soon 

La Motte. Two months ! — an age I 

Ada. I thought it was to be when you came at my bid- 
ding, and you have come unbidden. No, you must wait. I 
— I will see you in a week. Come then. 

La Motte. A whole week ! But it shall be as you say. 
But give me hope — one word ! Tell me 

{Voices are heard off r. She turns from him a7id goes up, 
77ieeti7ig Robert Winslow and Mrs. Griggs.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Ah, here you are. I was just telling Mr. 
Winslow how lovely you looked, Miss Ludlow, and about 
Mr. La Motte. I wanted him to meet him. Mr. Winslow, 
Mr. La Motte. ( The men bow to each other. ) Mr. Wins- 
low is the proprietor of The Review, you know, Mr. La 
Motte, — our paper, 

21 



22 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

La Motte. Oh ! Indeed ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes. Why, we wouldn't know what was 
going on if it wasn't for The Review. Now, I dare say 
this '11 all be in the paper to-morrow, all about our dresses 
and everything. Won't it, Mr. Winslow ? 

Robert. Why, yes, we hope to have a complete account. 
I think it's worth it. Don't you, Miss Ludlow? 

Ada. Oh, decidedly. It seems to be a great success. 

Mrs. Griggs. Now you're getting complimentary. It's 
quite a modest little affair, I'm sure. I call it a "soree- 
musically." We're going to have some singing before long. 
Miss Ashcroft's going to favor us. 

Ada. Miss Ashcroft ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes. She's a lovely singer. Gets a sal- 
ary in the Baptist church. She's Mr. Winslow's typewriter. 

La Motte {raising his eyebrows significantly). And a 
singer ? What a diversity of talents ! 

Robert {with some spirit). Miss Ashcroft is indeed a 
talented young woman. 

La Motte. Ah ! Perhaps I may hope to be favored 
with an introduction. ( There is a waltz being played in 
the ballroom.) This is our waltz, Miss Ludlow. {Offering 
her his arm.) Shall we go? 

Ada. If we may be excused ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, certainly. The waltzes would be 
wasted if you didn't dance 'em. 

(Ada takes La Motte' s arm and they go off to r. Robert 
watches them, then turns to Mrs. Griggs with an ex- 
pression which denotes disapproval.} 

Robert. Who is he? 

Mrs. Griggs. La Motte — Harold La Motte, a friend of 
Miss Ludlow's, a — engaged to her, I believe, or expects to 
be. You don't seem to like him. 

Robert. I mistrust him. I don't think he is what he 
pretends to be. 

Mrs. Griggs. But he's handsome; looks lovely in that 
dress suit. I never met him myself till to-night. I invited 
him as Miss Ludlow's consort, but I don't know anything 
about him. {She has gone tip r., and is now about to exit.) 
But dear me, it's about time to start the progrum. You'll 
excuse me, won't you — or come along? J'U have \o te}l 
them to begin, 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 23 

Robert. I'll stroll in the conservatory, or out on the 
veranda. {He goes to c. d. l., she to c. d. r.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Don't go too far, You mustn't miss the 
music, and you know you want to hear Miss Ashcroft sing. 

Robert, Oh, I shall hear that, never fear. 

(Mrs. Griggs goes out to r. Robert is about to exith., 
when he meets Seth and remains. They come down c. 
as they talk. Seth is somewhat excited.) 

Seth. Rob, have you met that man ? He is here. 

Robert. What man ? 

Seth. The one they call La Motte. Do you know who 
he is? 

Robert. No; only that he is a friend, an admirer, of 
Miss Ludlow's. 

Seth. A fortune hunter, a scoundrel ! Rob, he is the 
man to whom I lost that money. 

Robert. What ! a gambler ? Are you sure ? 

Seth. Sure? Could I be mistaken? Am I not in his 
power ? I tell you he is a rascal — a thief. I knew him as 
Albert Benner, but he is the same man. He is after Miss 
Ludlow for her money. 

Robert. . We must warn her. 

Seth. I dare not. He has it in his power to disgrace 
me. 

Robert. Yes, Seth, to tell of your disgrace, for is it 
not still disgrace while it is hidden ? You should have 
thought 

Seth. Yes, yes, I know, but this is no place for a ser- 
mon. I must leave here at once. Please excuse me to 
Mrs. Griggs. Tell her business called me — anything. 
And tell Phoebe I had to go. 

Robert. Yes; but Seth, is it best to run away? Don't 
be a — afraid. 

Seth. Say it — "a coward." Well, then, I am. 
But how can I meet him now — here ? No ; I must go. 
(He starts to exit c, just as Mrs. Griggs enters hurriedly 
and detains him. ) 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, why don't you hurry? Miss 
Ashcroft is just going to sing. Come right along, both of 
you. (She takes Seth's arm and urges him to go.) 

Seth. Really, Mrs. Griggs, you will have to excuse roe, 
please. I must go — <--■ 



24 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Mrs. Griggs. Go? The idea ! Just as we're going to 
have such a treat. You know you'd rather hear Phcebe 

Ash croft sing than Oh, come along. You too, Mr. 

Winslow. (To Robert.) 

Robert. Very well. 

Mrs. Griggs (Jo Seth, as she compels him to go with 
her). The idea of your running away from my party be- 
fore it's half over ! I'd never forgive you in the world. 
(She clings to Seth's arm and he is forced to attend her. 
She looks back at Robert, who nods, smiling.) 

Robert. Oh, I'm coming ! 

(They exeunt r., as Walter Gifford and Lily May 
Griggs enter l. Her sash is untied and she is trying to 
tie it.) 

Lily May. How that old sash acts. I'd just like to 
say — darn ! 

Walter. Why don't you? It isn't a bit worse than it 
is to think it. 

Lily May. Isn't it? Darn, then! There! But it 
doesn't help me tie it. I guess you'll have to. Can you tie 
a double bow ? 

Walter. I can try. Let's see. (She turns around and 
he attempts to tie the sash.) I thought your mother didn't 
let you have beaux? 

Lily. Oh, this kind — lots of 'em. But boy beaux — 
goodness ! she'd just as soon let me have a — a hoptoad. 

Walter. Well, I'm one, and 

Lily May. A hoptoad? 

Walter. Well, I meant a "boy beau," but if you 
wanted me to be a hoptoad, I'd be just as much like one as 
I could. But I think I'd rather be — er — something a little 
more agreeable. 

Lily May. I should hope so. I hate toads. (Looking 
around at him.) Got it tied ? (He keeps tying and untying 
the ribbon.) 

Walter. Well, I can't seem to make a very good job 
of it. 

Lily May. I should say not. Why, can't you make a 
better bow than that ? 

Walter. B-e-a-u ? 

Lily May. No, of course not: b-o-w. (They finally 
have the sash tied after a fashion.) There ! I guess that'll 



Followed by fate 25 

have to do. Now, you go away. You know I can't dance 
with you for four or five more times yet. If ma notices 
that we're together too much, she might 

Walter. Send me away ? 

Lily May. Maybe. And me to bed. 

Walter. What ! a young lady like you ? 

Lily May. A young lady, am I, in these clothes? 
Look like it, don't I? Oh, sometimes I get real — real 
rebellious, ma treats me so. I'm seventeen, and she wants 
me to pass for a little girl. Do you blame me ? 

Walter. No, I don't. If I were you, I wouldn't stand 
it any longer. 

Lily May. There ! now you're setting me up to go 
against ma. You don't know how she is. Why, she 
wouldn't let me talk to you alone like this. 

Walter. Oh, I know that well enough. All she invited 
me for, anyway, was to write it all up. I'm only a 
reporter. 

Lily MaY. You're more than that to me, Walter. 

Walter. Lily May ! {He is about to embrace her, 
but she springs away from him.) 

Lily May. Oh, you mustn't ! Somebody might see us. 
What if ma knew we have been acquainted so long, and 
met secretly, and 

Walter. And that I have kissed you ? 

Lily May. Sh ! Mercy, don't say it so loud. {Look- 
ing r.) Somebody's coming. Go, — quick ! Hurry ! 
Maybe it's ma ! 

Walter {as he hurries to go out r.). But I'll see you 
again. {Looks at his dance card.) Remember, number 
eleven ! 

Lily May. Yes, I'll remember. 

{Motions him away with her hand. He goes out r., and 
she looks first after him, then l., and back and forth till 
Ada Ludlow and La Motte enter c. d. r.) 

Ada. Oh, here's Lily May. How do you do, Lily 
May? 

Lily May. How do you do ? 

Ada. Are you having a good time ? 

Lily May. Pretty good, thank you. 

La Motte. Isn't it pretty late for little girls to be up ? 

Lily May. Not when we have a party. 



26 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Ada (to La Motte). I presume she took a nap this 
afternoon. That's the way little girls do, when they are to 
be allowed to stay up for the evening. 

Lily May. I suppose you're too old ? 

(Ada is evidently annoyed, but attempts to conceal it. La 
Motte smiles.) 

La Motte (to Ada). That's the time the little girl paid 
back the big one, isn't it ? 
Ada. The saucy thing ! 

(There is the sound of the prelude to a song from r. Lily 
May runs up to c. and stands looking off. Ada and 
La Motte are down l. She sits and he leans over her 
chair, smiling and talking. A full, sweet feminine voice 
begins singing a tender love song or ballad. La Motte 
suddenly stops talking to Ada, looks up, surprised, and 
listens inte?ztly. As the song progresses, he shows agita- 
tion, which he conceals before Ada looks up at him.) 

La Motte (after several bars have been sung). Who 
is it ? 

Ada. Singing ? 

La Motte. Yes. 

Ada. Miss Ashcroft; isn't it, Lily May? 

Lily May. Yes. Hasn't she got *a lovely voice? 

Ada. Very sweet. 

La Motte. Beautiful ! 

Ada. And she is only a typewriter — in Mr. Winslow's 
newspaper office. 

La Motte. Oh, that's who it is ? I remember. The 
talented young woman who gets a salary in the Baptist 
church. (He speaks rather sarcastically. Lily May looks 
at him sharply. ) 

Lily May. You needn't make fun of her. There's no 
young woman here any prettier, or more talented, or any 
more of a lady, either ! 

[She exits hurriedly to R., with a disdainful backward look 
at them.) 

Ada (springing tp, angrily). Impudence ! 
La Motte. Oh, she's only a child ! 
Ada. Child ! She's no such thing. She's old enough 
to know when she insults her mother's guests. 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 17 

La Motte. Oh, come now, it isn't so bad as that. We 
started it, you know. She certainly isn't so simple, after 
all. 

Ada {gradually melting to a good-natured laugh). No, 
indeed, and perhaps I deserved it. She is very sensitive 
about being called a little girl, and I ought not to have 
teased her. It's all her silly mother's fault. But listen ! 
Isn't that a sweet voice? 

La Motte (who has, through all the conversation, shown 
a deep interest in the singing, as if the voice had some 
niysterious power to move him). It is a rare voice — such 
a voice as one seldom hears, such a voice as — as I 

(He stops speaking suddenly and starts excitedly up c, 
pausing in the entrance and looking off to R.) 

Ada. What is it ? Are you so charmed ? 

La Motte. Charmed ? Miss Ludlow, that voice is not 
strange to me. 

Ada. Why, what do you mean? You have heard I^iss 
Ashcroft sing before ? I thought you had not seen her 
yet? 

La Motte. Miss Ashcroft ? No. But the possessor of 
that voice ? — yes. (He seems suddenly to remember what 
he is saying.) But no, it is only my imagination. 

Ada. But why should it affect you so ? 

La Motte. Affect me ? Why, you see, it sounded so 
much like the voice of an old friend of mine, who is — dead 
— that it startled me for a moment, that is all. 

(He comes down again and they listen and talk till the song 
ends, then go to r. c, as Mrs. Griggs and Seth enter 
from r., not seeing them at first. ) 

Mrs. Griggs. Must you really go, Mr. Winslovv ? 
Well, if you must, of course I will excuse you, but it seems 
too bad. Just as the festivalities are at their highest. 

Seth. I am sorry, Mrs. Griggs, but I feel that I must go 
and 

(He sees La Motte and pauses, turns as if to go, then thinks 
better of it and remains, striving to hide his agitation. 
Mrs. Griggs has followed his glance and now sees 
La Motte and Ada. She goes down to them.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Well, well, you two been hiding your- 



28 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

selves here, while everybody else was listening to Miss 
Ashcroft's song? How could you ? 

Ada. Oh, we could hear very nicely here, Mrs. Griggs. 

La Motte. Perfectly. 

Mrs. Griggs. Wasn't it splendorous ? She's going to 
sing another pretty soon. Oh, here's Mr. Winslovv ! Have 
you met him ? 

Ada. Not in a long time. [She goes c. and speaks to 
Seth, who is compelled to come down.} How do you do, 
Mr. Winslow ? (Seth returns her salutation politely. ) 

Mrs. Griggs. You haven't met him, have you, Mr. La 
Motte ? 

La Motte. I — think not. No. 

Seth. I have never met — Mr. La Motte ! {He emphasizes 
the name rather significantly but only La Motte notices it. 
He glares at Seth, and bows stiffly.} 

Mrs. Griggs. Mr. Winslovv was just telling me he'd 
have to go, and I say it's too bad. Isn't it a pretty note to 
have business at such a time at this ? 

La Motte. It is, indeed. However, it is "business be- 
fore pleasure," you know, Mrs. Griggs. 

Mrs. Griggs. As if it wasn't our business to enjoy our- 
selves once in awhile. I say we ought to. Now, Mr. 
Winslow, why must you go ? 

La Motte {insinuatingly). Perhaps there are reasons 
which Mr. Winslow cannot explain. 

Seth. I will remain. 

Mrs. Griggs. Good ! I knew you would, all the time. 
( To La Motte. ) It's time you delinquished Miss Ludlow for 
a little while, don't you think so? You've monopotized her 
the whole evening. I think she ought to give Mr. Winslow 
a dance. Don't you ? 

La Motte {smiling faintly). That's for Miss Ludlow 
to say. 

Ada. And for Mr. Winslow to determine. He has not 
asked me. 

Seth. I have had no opportunity. Will you give me 
the pleasure ? 

Ada. Certainly. With Mr. La Motte's permission. 
This was his dance. 

Seth. Oh, do not let me 

La Motte. I release her. 

Seth. Thank you. 



FOLLOWED BY FATfi 29 

(The orchestra is again playing a waltz : : QjLtU and Ada 
go off to R.) 

Mrs. Griggs. How easily that was arranged. Now I 
want you to meet Miss Ashcroft. Wouldn't you like to ? 

La Motte. I should be delighted. 

Mrs. Griggs. You'll find her charming. I think folks 
ought to circulate around and make themselves agreeable, 
don't you? Of course, we all know how 'tis with you and 
Miss Ludlow, but I can't allow you to have her all to your- 
self to-night. I suppose it'll be announced before long, 
won't it? 

La Motte. Really, Mrs. Griggs, I — that's for Miss 
Ludlow to say, you know. 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, yes, I understand. Now you wait 
right here a minute and I'll find Miss Ashcroft. I want voir 
to dance with her. She's as graceful as a gazette. 

La Motte. Indeed ! Do let me meet her at once. 

Mrs. Griggs. Just you wait. Don't run away after 
your feeancy, now. 

(Exit Mrs. Griggs c. d. r.) 

La Motte. What an insufferable bore that woman is ! 
My • ' feeancy ! " Ha ! ha I Let us hope I may have the 
good luck to make her my "feeancy," and my wife, in 
short order. And then, — well, then won't we be in clover, 
my boy? Maybe not. The haughty beauty thinks I'm 
dead in love with her. Ha ! So I am, my heiress, with 
your money ! What fools these women are ! They're all 
alike. 

(He has been walking about stage \ now pauses down L. c. , 
not at first seeing Mrs. Griggs and Phcebe Ashcroft, 
who enter c. d. r. As Mrs. Griggs speaks, he turns and 
sees Phcebe; starts, but manages to hide his surprise 
from Mrs. Griggs. Phcebe, as she sees him, is at first 
almost overcome by emotion and reaches out her hand un- 
consciously, as if to grasp something for support ; totters 
for an instant, then partially recovers her self-possession 
and as Mrs. Griggs introduces them bows to La Motte 
in a manner that, while co7istrai?ied, is noticed only by 
him. He is coolly polite.) 

Mrs. Griggs. Mr. La Motte, allow me to present Miss 
Ashcroft, Miss Ashcroft, Mr. La Motte. (After their ac~ 



30 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

knoiuledgments she continues.} Now I'll leave you to get 
acquainted and see how all my other guests are enjoying 
themselves. You'll excuse me, won't you ? Mr. La Motte 
was praising your voice, Miss Ashcroft. He's Miss Lud- 
low's — friend, you know. ( With a coquettish glance at La 
Motte.) Oh, I wasn't going to tell, don't be frightened. 
{Down c. d.) He was afraid I was going to tell something, 
Miss Ashcroft, but I wasn't. No, indeed ! 

(Exit Mrs. Griggs c. d. r.) 

La Motte (he looks at Phcebe calmly a moment, then 
smiles almost insolently, as he steps toivard her and speaks). 
Well, aren't you going to speak, — Miss Ashcroft? Have 
you nothing to say to me after our long separation ? 

Phcebe (she has drawn away from him, with repulsion, 
and scarcely looks at him). I had hoped that I need never 
speak to you again. 

La Motte. But fate wills it otherwise, eh ? It's not my 
fault, surely. Really, I quite stumbled upon your hiding- 
place. Considerable of a come-down for a society belle, 
isn't it — typewriter in a country printing office? 

Phcebe. It is no come-down to earn an honest living. 
Have you been as honorable ? 

La Motte. Come now, don't get personal. I am not 
afraid of you. All you've got to do is to keep still. Do 
that and I will do the same, but tell on me and — well, you 
know me. 

Phcebe. Know you ? Yes, Gilbert Dayne, I do know 
you, I know why you are here, and I mean to thwart your 
purpose. You shall not deceive Miss Ludlow, whose money 
you covet, — no, not if I can prevent it. 

La Motte (with a sarcastic laugh). But you dare not. 
Say so much as one word to her, or any one else, and I will 
pay you back blow for blow. 

Phcebe. You may do your worst, I shall do my duty. 
No matter what the consequences to me, I shall not let you 
ruin another woman's life. 

La Motte {stepping close to her threateningly). You'd 
better heed me, or I 

Phcebe (facing him boldly, so that he is somewhat cowed). 
Oh, I am not afraid of you. You may not fear me, but you 
fear the law which I can invoke. Ah, that makes you 
tremble, does it? And I tell you, Gilbert Dayne, I shall 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 31 

not spare you unless you leave to-morrow and never show 
your face here again. I have only to reveal your past to 
prove you the villain you are. 

La Motte. My past ? And what of your own ? Is not 
my past a part of yours?. Disgrace me, and you fall with 
me. 

Phcebe. No, I will never fall lower than you have al- 
ready dragged me — into sorrow and suffering. You know 
that I have committed no wrong. I have done no crime. 
Gilbert Dayne ! 

La Motte {seizing her wrist, roughly). Be still, I say ! 
Don't you dare speak that name again. This is no place to 
have a discussion. You must treat me as a stranger to- 
night. Where can I see you alone, and when ? 

Phcebe. Let me go ! Don't dare to touch me I I re- 
fuse to see you alone again. It would be useless. 

La Motte. I promise you it would not. I have more 
to tell you than I can say here. 

Phcebe. You could say nothing that would change my 
determination. 

La Motte {speaking in low, distinct tones, close to her 
ear). I can say something to your lover — Seth Winslow ! 

Phcebe. You dare not ! 

La Motte. I dare do anything. You know me well 
enough for that. Defy me, and 

Phcebe. I do defy you ! 

{She is about to go, but he intercepts her, seizing her arm. 
She tries to free herself, but he holds her tightly.) 

Phcebe. Let me go ! How dare you ? 
La Motte. Beware ! If I let you go without your 
promise of silence, it is to tell Seth Winslow 

(Seth has appeared in c. d. just as his name is spoken and 
now stands looking at them.) 

Seth {stepping quickly forward and encountering him). 
If you have anything to tell Seth Winslow, he is here to 
hear it. 

(Phcebe drops back dismayed and totters, as if about to 
faint. Seth goes to her and supports her.) 

Seth. What have you to say ? 

La Motte. Ask her. If she bids me speak, I will do so. 



32 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

PhceBE. No, no ; not now. It is nothing. {She revives 
and draws away from Seth, who sta?ids r. c. ; La Motte 
is L. C. She crosses, so that she is near the latter. Just 
then Lily May runs across c. T>.,from r. to l., laughing, 
followed quickly by Walter Gifford. They disappear to 
l., as Mrs. Griggs enters from r., with Robert Winslow.) 

Mrs. Griggs Why, Miss Ashcroft, I've been looking 
everywhere for you. It's time for your song. 

Phcebe. I am sorry. I will go. (She starts to go, 
speaking aside to La Motte.) To-morrow night. I will 
see you then. 

(She goes up to c, Robert Winslow offers her his arm ; 
she takes it and goes off to r, followed by Mrs. Griggs. 
They meet Ada Ludlow, who nods to them as she comes 
in and is met by La Motte. She smiles, takes his arm 
and they slowly saunter off to l., laughing and talking, 
ignoring Seth, who is part way down stage to R. He 
stands for an instant looking after them, then the prelude 
of a song is heard being played off R. He goes up to 
c. and stands looking off to r. Just as Phcebe' s voice 
is heard beginning the song, the curtain falls. The 
singing may continue after fall of curtain until the first 
verse has been sung.) 

end of act II 



ACT III 

SCENE. — A plainly but neatly furnished room in the 
modest house occupied by Phcebe Ashcroft. The fur- 
nishings should denote taste and refinement, combined 
with evidences of a moderate income. Discovered, Sallie 
Pockett, a slovenly, gawky country girl, laying the cloth 
on one end of a small table R. c. A tray, with a plate, 
cup, saucer, etc., is on another table or standi. Sallie 
shuffles back and forth, as Phcebe, looking pale and ill, 
enters R.) 

Sallie (running to assist her). Oh, here y' are, miss. 
Lor, miss, how white y' are, like a sheet. Tremblin', too. 
Be y' that sick, miss? 

Phoebe. Oh, no, Sallie; it is only the result of a bad 
headache. I am not sick. 

Sallie. Well, y' look it. {Placing her in chair by 
table.) Here now, set right down here 'n' see what I've 
fixed y\ Some nice toast, a piece o' ham 'nd a cup o' hot 
tea. Ain't that nice, now ? (She brings articles from tray.) 

Phcebe. Very nice, Sallie. How kind you are. 

Sallie. Kind yer grandmother ! Land ! ain't I paid 
fer it? (Pours tea.) 

Phcebe. Paid ? Ah, I couldn't pay you for taking care 
of me as you do, Sallie. I don't know what I should do 
without you. 

Sallie. Well, I reckon it would be lonesome like for y', 
all alone in this house here. Sometimes, miss, ain't y' kind 
o' scared as it is, just you and me ? 

Phcebe. Why, no; not at all. What would harm us? 

Sallie. I d' know. But ain't you never put no stock 
in hoodoos, miss? 

Phcebe. Hoodoos ? 

Sallie. 'R ghosts like? 

Phcebe. Oh, no, I don't believe in them. 

Sallie. 'Nd don't y' b'lieve in bugglers, nuther? 

Phcebe. Yes, of course I believe there are burglars ; but 
none that we need be afraid of. What could they expect to 

33 



34 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

find here, in this little house ? There's nothing worth steal- 
ing. 

Sallie. You ! 

Phcebe. Me? {Laughing.') Oh, now you are making 
fun of me, Sallie. Nobody would want to steal me. 

Sallie. I d' know, miss. I've seen some of 'em lookin' 
at you 's if they'd like t\ 

Phcebe. Who ? Burglars ? 

Sallie. Land o' goodness, no ! Men. Mr. Winslow, 
mebbe, either one of 'em. I d' know which of 'em wants 
y' the worst, that oldest one 'r t' other one. 

Phcebe. Sallie! You mustn't talk so. It's all nonsense. 
What ever put such ideas into your head ? 

Sallie. I d' know. Guess they jest come along 'thout 
no putt'n'. Here ! Why ain't you eat'n' ? Your tea's all 
gett'n' cold. Ain't it jest like dish water? 

Phcebe. No, Sallie, it is very nice. (She drinks and 
eats sparingly.) What time is it? 

Sallie. Pretty late fer t' be eatin' supper. After half- 
past seven. 

Phcebe. Is it so late? What a lazy day I have had. 
It's the first time I have missed going to the office in a long 
while. 

Sallie. Well, y' wa'n't able. (There is a knocking o?i 
door.) Somebuddy's rappin'. 

Phcebe (partly rising, tremblingly). I expect a visitor. 
See who it is. 

(Sallie goes to door and admits Tad, who enters bashfully, 
with his hat in one hand and the other behind him.) 

Tad (in an awkward, boyish fashion). How d' do, 
Miss Ashcroft? 

Phcebe. Why, good-evening, Tad. How kind of you 
to come and see me. 

Tad. Missed you awful down 't the office to-day. 
Thought I'd come and see how you was. Hope you're 
better. 

Phcebe. Oh, yes, thank you. I shall be back at my 
desk to-morrow, I hope. The next day, anyhow. Won't 
you sit down ? 

Tad. No thanks, can't stay. (He has thrown aside his 
fyat and now stands with both hands behind him / speaks in 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 35 

an abashed, half-scared manner.') Uh, — a — which hand'll 
you take? 

Phcebe (not comprehending). Which hand? 

Sallie (clearing the things from table ; now glancing at 
Tad). He's got something t' give y', miss. Guess which 
hand it's in. 

Tad. Yes. Which'll y' take? 

Phcebe. Oh ! Well, let — me — see ! This one ! (She 
designates the hand in which he is holding several roses, 
which he now produces a?id offers to her.) 

Sallie. You got it ! 

Tad. That's right. Here! 

Phcebe. Oh, how pretty ! Are they for me, Tad ? 

Tad. Yes. I got 'm fer you. (Gives Phcebe the roses.) 
I thought seein' you's sick, they'd kind o' — I guess I'll 
have t' go. (Getting his hat.) 

Sallie. Shall I put 'em in water, miss? 

Phcebe. Yes, please, Sallie. (Sallie takes the roses and 
exits r.) Don't be in a hurry, Tad. Tell me how every- 
thing has gone at the office to-day. 

Tad. Oh, pretty well, c'nsid'rin'. 'Tvva'n't like it is 
when you're there. 

(Enter Sallie r.) 

Sallie. So you work in the printin' office, do y', bub? 

Tad. Yep. I'm the devil. 

Sallie. Land o' goodness, be y' ? You don't look it. 
Did y' hear that, Miss Phcebe ? (She has a vase for the roses 
and now arranges them on table.) 

Phcebe. Yes, Tad's the devil, but a very nice one and 
not at all deserving of the name. 

Sallie. Well, if I ever! If it was "imp" y' called 
him ! 

Tad. Aw, say, you ain't no angel yerself, I reckon ! 
(Sallie makes a good-natured motion as if to strike him ; 
he makes a face at her, dodging. At door, about to go.) 
Say, Miss Ashcroft, don't — please don't say anything t' the 
fellers in the office about them roses. 

Phcebe. Why not? You needn't be ashamed of them, 
Tad. 

Tad. Oh, I ain't; but y' see, — well, they might guy 
me, y' see, and say I was try in' t' git y' t' fre — £r — my 
girl 



36 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Sallie (laughing). Ho ! will y' listen t' that? 
Tad. Well, I guess they wouldn't say any feller was 
tryin' t' git you ! Good-bye, Miss Ashcioft. 

(Exit Tad hurriedly.) 

Sallie {going to door and looking after him). If that 
ain't a kid ! Y' can't git the best of him, can y' ? 

Phcebe. No ; Tad is very bright. (Sallie takes things 
from table and exits r. There is a knock on door. Phcebe 
starts, hesitates an instant, then seems to gain courage and 
goes and opens door, admitting Seth Winslow. She starts 
back in dismay.) I — I thought 

Seth. You thought it was some one else. But you see 
it is I — Seth Winslow ! You are not glad to see me, eh ? 
Well, I am here, just the same. (He is slightly intoxicated 
and shows excitement, being in a reckless mood and scarcely 
knowing what he says or does.) 

Phcebe. Why, Seth, what do you mean ? What is the 
matter ? 

Seth. Matter? You know. You have not forgotten 
last night, neither have I. AVhat is that man to you ? You 
know him. What is he to you, I say? Tell me. 

Phcebe. I will tell you ; only be calm. I will tell you, 
some other time. Not to-night. 

Seth. Yes, to-night. There may be no other time. 

Phcebe. What do you mean ? 

Seth. I mean that either he or I may not be alive after 
to-night 

Phcebe. Oh, no ! no ! Seth, promise me you will do 
nothing rash ! That you will not harm him. 

Seth. Because you love him? No! I will give him a 
chance for his life, but he kills me or I kill him ! 

Phcebe. You don't know what you are saying. You do 
not understand. I can explain everything, I can prove to 
you that I have not been false. But not to-night, Seth, not 
now. You must go home now, promising me that you will 
not see him to-night. To-morrow you will be calmer and 
see it in a different light. You will do this, Seth, for my 
sake ? 

Seth. No. If you can explain, do it now. 

Phcebe. Oh, Seth, can't you trust me? Can't you be- 
lieve that I will not deceive you ? If you cannot, then you 
are not worthy of my confidence, 



Followed by fate 37 

Seth. Then I will go. (He starts, but she seizes his 
arm, almost frantically .) 

Phcebe. Not to him ! Not to find him ! Promise me 
you will not see him to-night. 

Seth. No. I stay to hear your explanation, or I go to 
have a reckoning with him. Take your choice. 

Phcebe (tottering to a chair or table and leaning on it for 
support). Oh, can't you see I am ill, weak? If you ever 
loved me, if you have one spark of pity or regard for me 
now, do as I beg of you — for your sake as well as for mine. 

Seth. Or for his? No. That man is a scoundrel, a 
traitor. He got me in his power by treachery and cheating. 
He threatens me with exposure, disgrace. That I could 
stand. But the thought that you loved him, love him even 
now, perhaps, — do you think I can face all this calmly and 
not have my revenge ? Then you think I am not flesh and 
blood . 

Phcebe. Then I think you are not a man, but a coward 
as well as he. I think you are not worth trusting if you 
have no more faith in me than this. 

Seth (beginning to weaken). Oh, Phcebe, you don't 
know all I have suffered, what I am facing. If you 
knew 

Phcebe. Or if you knew what I am suffering, what I 
have to face. I only ask you to trust me, as I am willing to 
trust you. I ask you to leave me till to-morrow and not to 
see Harold La Motte, or to have any words with him. 
(Grasping his arm, imploringly.) May I trust you ? 

Seth (after looking a moment steadily into her eyes). 
You may. (He suddenly clasps her in his arms, passion- 
ately.) Oh, Phcebe, if you knew how I love you ! 

Phcebe (yielding to his embrace briefly, then withdraw- 
ing from his arms in a frightened manner). No, no, you 
must not ! You must go now. 

Seth. You fear to have me stay? Is that it? Tell 
me, do you expect Harold La Motte here to-night ? 

Phcebe. Is this the way you trust me ? 

Seth. You can't deny it. You do expect him. That 
is why you want me to go. By George ! 

Phcebe. You may take your choice, now — go or stay. 
Trust me, keep your promise and be my friend, or doubt 
me and end all between us. Which shall it be ? 

Seth (after slight hesitation). I — I will go. 



38 followed by fate 

{He steps toward door, as if to go, when there is a knock 
upon it. He starts back, while Phoebe runs to door and 
leans against it, trembling with fear. She points to- 
ward L.) 

Phcebe {in a cautious tone). Go in there. 

Seth. What! hide? No. 

Phoebe. Oh, I beg of you, leave me. You have prom- 
ised to trust me. Do so now. Prove your faith in me by 
going in there and remaining till I call you. {The knocking 
is repeated.) 

Seth. It is La Motte ! 

Phcebe. You doubt me. 

Seth (crossing to l.). No ! 

{Exit Seth l.) 

(Phcebe, after pausing an instant, to compose herself, opens 
the door and Harold La Motte steps in. He looks 
quickly about the room, suspiciously.) 

La Motte. Why didn't you open the door? There 
was some one here. 

Phcebe. It would have suited me better never to open it 
to you. 

La Motte. Come now, none of your sarcasm. I know 
you're sorry I am not dead, as you believed for three years, 
but you see I am very much alive. 

Phcebe. I certainly have no reason to be thankful that 
you are. 

La Motte. Well, we won't waste words telling unpleas- 
ant truths. I am here to get your decision. What are you 
going to do? There is but one thing I ask of you, — the 
easiest thing in the world. 

Phcebe. And that is ? 

La Motte. Silence. 

Phcebe. And that I refuse. 

La Motte. Pshaw ! you want to be coaxed. You want 
money. Well, what is your price? 

Phcebe. Price? Do you dare suggest such a thing to 
me? No. Do what you will, I shall expose you and 
send you back to the prison from which you escaped. 

La Motte {looking about, in fright). Hush ! or if I go 
back, it may be for a worse crime than I have ever yet com- 
mitted. ( Threatening her.) 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 39 

Phcebe. I believe you capable of even that, but I do not 
fear you. You cannot buy my silence nor frighten me into 
submission. {They are both dow?i a, he l. and she r.) 
I thought you were dead, as you say, for three years, and I 
had no reason to mourn for you. It was you, my father's 
partner, who got him into your power and stole from him 
till his business was ruined and he died, a disappointed and 
broken-hearted man. 

La Motte. It was not my fault if he failed. 

Phcebe. It was all your fault — your dishonesty and 
treachery. Was it not proven, and were you not sent to 
prison for twelve years? Your sentence was not half up 
when you escaped. You shall go back, if I can send you 
there. 

La Motte. You are merciless. 

Phcebe. What were you but merciless, cruel? You 
ruined my father — yes, killed him, — and made my life worse 
than death. Now you think to make me keep silent while 
you entrap another woman and ruin her life. Never ! 

La Motte. Such talk is all very heroic, my dear, and 
would sound well on the stage ; but this is plain reality. 
You have got to leave this place at once, or swear to me 
never to tell a word of what you know. Which shall it be? 

Phcebe. Neither. I defy you ! 

La Motte {he seizes hold of her roughly) . You shall do 

as I say, or (He has taken hold of her shoulders and 

forced her against the table. She struggles to free herself, 
but he holds her firmly.') Swear ! Swear to keep silent, or 
you may never live to speak ! 

Phcebe. No, no, I will not ! Release me ! 

La Motte {with his hands on her throat). Not until 
you promise. I will kill you first ! 

(He tightens his hold on her throat ; she sinks back life- 
lessly, as Seth flings open the door l. and bursts in. He 
runs and grasps La Motte by the shoulders and power- 
fully hurls him to l., where he nearly falls. Phcebe re- 
vives sufficiently to recognize Seth, then with a cry faints 
and falls into chair. La Motte now rushes at Seth 
and they struggle fiercely for a time, then separate and 
stand glaring at each other. ) 

Seth. You coward ! 

La Motte. You shall pay for this ! 



40 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Seth. I am ready for a settlement now. {He goes and 
bends over Phcebe, speaking tender ly to her.) Miss Ashcroft ! 
Speak to me. Are you hurt? {He turns to La Motte 
just in time to see him taking a revolver from his pocket.) 
You 

(La Motte is about to raise the weapon when Seth springs 
upon him and knocks it from his grasp to the floor. As 
they grapple again Sallie rushes in R. She runs about 
screaming ' i Help ! Murder I ' ' etc. Phcebe revives 
and looks on in terror. La Motte now deals Seth a 
blow which sends him reeling across to r. , where he falls 
backward, stunned and helpless for a moment. Phcebe 
attempts to intercede with La Motte, but he pushes her 
roughly aside ; she again goes to him, throwing her arms 
about him and almost kneeling as she implores him to 
desist.) 

Phcebe. No, no ! Do not kill him! I will promise! 
I swear to do as you say ! 

La Motte. To save your lover. No ! 

{He seizes a chair which stands L. c. and raises it above 
his head, to strike Seth, who is about to rise. Sallie 
has in the meantime noticed the revolver on the floor and 
picked it up ; she now springs in front of La Motte 
and points it at him.) 

Sallie. Drop it! (La Motte glares at her fiercely ; 
she makes a motion as if to fire ; he drops the chair, cowed. 
She keeps the weapon pointed at him, forcing him to the 
door in f., through which he sneaks, with a menacing 
gesture. Seth has risen and goes to Phcebe, who falls 
fainting in his arms. As La Motte disappears, Sallie 
slams the door after him and falls with her back against 
it, laughing.) 

end of act III 



ACT IV 

SCENE. — Same as Act II, or another handsome apartment 
at Mrs. Everly-Griggs'. Discovered, Walter Gif- 
ford, in c. D., motioning to some one off l. 

Walter. Come on in, Lily May. What are you afraid 
of? {Pause.} There's no one here. Pshaw, you've got to 
face her some time and you might as well have it over first 
as last. Come on. Don't be afraid. 

Lily May {poking her head cautiously around edge of 
door). Are you sure she isn't here? 

Walter. Positive. 

Lily May. Nor anybody else? 

Walter. Not a soul. 

Lily May {entering timidly). Oh, I'm just about scared 
to death. What ever will ma say? 

Walter. Well, I shouldn't care. Excuse me if I say it 
of your own mother, but I think it serves her right. To 
think of her keeping you dressed like a little girl, when 
you're — how old are you? 

Lily May {strutting about and surveying herself 
proudly). Well, I'm old enough to have my dresses down 
and my hair up, and they are at last. How do you like 
me ? 

Walter {as if to embrace her). Like you? That 
doesn't express it 

Lily May {drawing away). Oh, I mean this way : 
dressed like a grown-up ? Ain't it grand ? 

Walter. Scrumptious I And to think you had that 
dress made all without your mother's knowing it. 

Lily May. Yes, and this isn't the only one. I suppose 
it's perfectly awful to deceive one's mother so, but what is a 
girl going to do, when she's so misused? You don't blame 
me, do you, Walter ? 

Walter. Blame you ? I guess not. I will blame you, 
though, if you don't go still farther and tell your mother 
that we've decided to get married. 

Lily May, Oh, you've got to tell her, that t 

4* 



42 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Walter. I have? Oh, say, now, don't you think it's 
your place to break it to her first? That is, I mean 
wouldn't it be — a — safer ? 

Lily May. So, you're afraid of a little thing like that, 
are you ? After I've done my share, too, and put my 
dresses down and my hair up ? Very well, if that's all you 
care about me. Heroes in books risk their lives for the one 
they love, and you — you — I believe you're a coward. 

Walter. Coward, eh ? Well, if that's the opinion you 
have of me, I must say you aren't very flattering. If you 
loved me, you wouldn't say that. 

Lily May. Then prove you're not. Ask ma. 

Walter. M'm, — don't you think we'd better let her get 
over the shock of seeing you in those clothes, first ? 

Lily May. Yes, perhaps. And then, — you will ask 
her, won't you, Walter, dear? 

Walter. I'll more than ask her, Lily May, darling. 
I'll ask her, then if she refuses 

Lily May. Which she will, of course. 

Walter. Oh, she will ? Well, then I'll tell her we have 
it all settled, and that we're going to get married anyway. 

Lily May. Well, — maybe you'd better let me coax her 
a little first. Ma usually gives in if I tease hard enough 
and stick to it. When it's anything I want real bad, 
and 

Walter. You do want me that way, don't you? 

Lily May. No. 

Walter. You don't ? Oh, Lily May ! 

Lily May {teasing him ; he puts on an injured air). 
Well, I don't. I don't want you bad, do I — any worse than 
you are? 

Walter. Oh ! 

Lily May. I want you because you're — so — good. 
There ! now are you satisfied ? 

Walter. N-no. I will be, though, when I've had a 
kiss. 

Lily May. Only one? 

Walter. One — thousand ! 

{He kisses her, just as Mrs. Griggs, off R., calls " Lily 
May ! " They separate, she running r, and he L.) 

Lily May. It's ma \ 
Walter, Murder ! 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 43 

{They hide, r. and l., and peep cautiously out as Mrs. 
Griggs enters, acting a pantomime of warning gestures, 
throwing kisses, talking on their fingers, etc., behind her 
back?) 

Mrs. Griggs. Lily May ! Where is that child ? I was 
sure I heard her voice. Lily May, where are you ? 
(Walter motions Lily May to come out and show herself. 
She shakes her head emphatically. In his excitement he 
makes a slight noise which attracts Mrs. Griggs' attention ; 
she turns and sees him motioning.} Why, Mr. Gifford, is 
that you ? Where did you come from ? 

Walter {entering, much abashed}. N-no where, ma'am. 
I — that is, I just dropped in, you know. 

Mrs. Griggs. To see me, I suppose ? 

Walter. N-no, — that is, y-yes, ma'am ! 

Mrs. Griggs. I'm delighted to see you, I am sure. 
Won't you take a seat? Pleasant evening, isn't it? 

Walter {sitting awkwardly on the edge of a chair r. c, 
and fidgeting about). It — it looks some like it, yes ma'am. 

Mrs. Griggs. Like what, Mr. Gifford ? {Sits c. or 

L. C.) 

Walter. Rain, ma'am. That is, I mean, yes, ma'am, 
it's a very pleasant evening. Your party was a — a great 
success. 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, thank you. Everybody seemed to 
think it was. They tell me I quite extinguished myself. 

Walter. Oh, I'm sure you did, Mrs. Griggs. 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh, no, it was quite unpretentional. 
{He keeps looking l. at Lily May, making eyes, etc. Mrs. 
Griggs looks at him curiously.) That was a very nice ac- 
count you had in The Review about it. I suppose I am in- 
debted to you for that ? 

Walter. Only partly, ma'am. I 

{He nods at Lily May, motioning her to come out, in such 
a way that Mrs. Griggs sees him, turns about quickly 
and catches sight of Lily May, who dodges back too late.) 

Mrs. Griggs {springing up). Lily May, is that you? 

Lily May {?iot in sight). Yes, ma. 

Mrs, Griggs {going l.). Come out here this minute. 
What do you mean by such behavior? (Lily May appears 
slowly % standing sheepishly before Mrs, Griggs, who looks 



44 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

at her a moment in astonishment, then screams and falls 
into chair.) Lily May ! What have you been doing ? 

Lily May. Don't you see, ma? Dressing like I ought 
to dress. 

Mrs. Griggs. Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! To think you would 
do such a thing ! Oh ! I shall faint ! Oh, dear ! O-oh ! 
(She is almost in hysterics. Walter attempts to assist 
her.) Go away ! You're in it, I know you are. It's 
owing to you ! Oh, dear, my own child, too ! (Suddenly 
resuming her natural tone.) Lily May, where' d you get 
that dress ? (Rising. ) 

Lily May. I — I had it made, ma. 

Mrs. Griggs. And charged to me, I suppose ? 

Lily May. Yes, ma ; and a few others. 

Mrs. Griggs. Well, you go and take it off. 

Lily May. I don't want to. 

Mrs. Griggs. You do as I say. 

Lily May. I'm not going to take it off; or if I do, I 
shall put another just such a one on. I'm not going to 
dress like a little girl any longer, I don't care what you say. 

Mrs. Griggs (dumbfounded). Lily May ! 

Lily May. Well, I'm not. So there ! I've stood it 
long enough. I'll have a beau, too. 

Mrs. Griggs. What ! You — have a — a beau ? 

Lily May. Yes, ma ; I've got him all picked out. 
Here he is. (Presenting Walter, who now steps to her 
side and puts his arm about her. They bow to Mrs. 
Griggs deferentially.) 

Mrs. Griggs. I must be dreaming ! You, Mr. Gifford ? 
My daughter — you ? — I 

Walter. Exactly, Mrs. Griggs. Your daughter and I. 
Fact is, ma'am, we — we're — engaged ! 

Lily May. Yes, ma, we're engaged ! 

(They sail out c. d. l., before Mrs. Griggs can recover from 
her astonishment. Finally she follows them and is about 
to exit L., in a terrible state of perturbation, when Ada 
Ludlow enters r.) 

Ada. Why, what has happened, Mrs. Griggs ? You 
seem excited. 

Mrs. Griggs (coming back ; they gradually come down). 
Excited ? I never was more excited in my life. And { 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 45 

have good cause. What do you think ? Lily May has 
gone and put on a long dress and got her hair done up, un- 
beknown to me. 

Ada. No ! 

Mrs. Griggs. And that isn't the worst of it. She's 
got a beau, too, and is engaged to him. 

Ada. Never ! 

Mrs. Griggs. She has ! It's that Walter Gifford, the 
reporter. 

Ada. Well, I'm not surprised. 

Mrs. Griggs. You're not ? 

Ada. Why, no. Lily May is no longer a child, and 
your treating her like one and forbidding her having a beau 
was the very thing to make her have one on the sly. I am 
afraid you have only yourself to blame. 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes, of course you'd go against me too; 
it's all I could expect. You girls are all alike. You must 
have beaux and get married, and all such nonsense. 

Ada. Why, Mrs. Griggs, you have been married three 
times. 

Mrs. Griggs. Well, what if I have ? 

Ada. Nothing, only you shouldn't put anything in the 
way of those who have not tried it once yet. By the way, 
Mr. La Motte is coming for my answer to-night. 

Mrs. Griggs. And it is to be yes, of course? 

Ada. Well, he doesn't seem willing to take no for an 
answer, so what can I say but " Yes " ? 

Mrs. Griggs. He's certainly a handsome man, and sty- 
lish, but sometimes I feel as if — well, do you feel quite sure 
of him? That is, — excuse me, my dear, it's your affair and 
I've no business to meddle. But I am older than you are — 
so. ne — and have, as you say, had more experience. I only 
want you to be sure of the step you are taking. It means 
so much, you know. 

Ada. I understand. But I have thought it all over, 
Mrs. Griggs. I love Mr. La Motte and I have decided to be 
his wife. 

Mrs. Griggs. Then of course I have nothing more to 
say, except that I hope it will prove a most suspicious match. 
(Gjin<r up.) I am going to find Lily May now and try to 
reason with her. To think of having her jump from thir- 
teen to eighteen all in one day ! It makes me feel as old as 
my own grandmother ! 



46 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

{Exit Mrs. Griggs c. d. l.) 

Ada. Poor Mrs. Griggs, she is at last reaping the results 
of her own vanity and foolishness. (Rising and walking 
up.) I wonder why Harold doesn't come. It is time. {She 
looks off to l., as Mrs. Griggs returns.') What is it, Mrs. 
Griggs ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Some one who wishes to see you, Ada. 
Miss Ashcroft. 

Ada. Miss Ashcroft ? Tell her I am engaged and can- 
not see her. 

Mrs. Griggs. She says she must see you. 

Ada. Mrs. Griggs, if you care to admit that woman to 
your house, 1 must at least ask the privilege of declining to 
meet her again. 

Mrs. Griggs. Why, Miss Ludlow — Ada — what do you 
mean ? Miss Ashcroft 

Ada. Is not a person with whom I care to have anything 
more to do. Will you tell her for me, please, that I decline 
to see her ? 

Mrs. Griggs. I'll excuse you to her, of course, if you 
insist, though I don't at all understand what you mean. I'm 

sure she is {She has turned to go up and pauses as she 

sees Phcebe standing in c. d.) Oh, Miss Ashcroft 

Phcebe. Pardon me if I intrude, but I must speak with 
Miss Ludlow. 

Ada. I beg to be excused. {She is about to go.) 

Phcebe. And I beg that you will remain. You must not 
refuse, Miss Ludlow, to listen to what I have to say. 

Mrs. Griggs. I dare say you wish to do so in privation, 
so I will retire. 

{Exit Mrs. Griggs c. d. l.) 

Ada {she is very haughty and treats PhcebE with almost 
insolent coolness). I do not understand why you should 
force your presence upon me in this manner, Miss Ashcroft, 
but if you insist upon speaking with me, of course I will 
listen. Pray be seated. 

Phcebe. Thank you, but I prefer to stand. {She is down 
c. ; Ada l. c.) Miss Ludlow, I come to you as one woman 
to another. I come because I cannot remain silent without 
feeling that I would be false to you, to myself and to that 
true womanhood which I am sure we both wish to represent. 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 47 

Ada. I certainly hope to do so, Miss Ashcroft. 

Phcebe. You? There can be but one meaning to your 
emphasis, but one excuse for your treatment of me. Will 
you explain why I am subjected to this insinuation ? {There 
is a pause ; Ada haughtily turns away from her J) Miss 
Ludlow, he has been slandering me to you, and you believe 
him. Is it not true? 

Ada. If you mean Mr. La Motte, I must ask you not to 
speak further in reference to him. There is nothing more 
to be said. (She is about to go, but pauses as Phcebe 
speaks.) 

Phcebe. There is a great deal to be said. I wish to 
know what he has said about me. 

Ada. And I refuse to tell you. You must excuse me. 

{She goes up toward c. d., but Phcebe bars her way and she 
is forced to re)7iain. She does so with a show of indig- 
nation.) 

Phcebe. No ! You shall not go until you know all. 
Oh, Miss Ludlow, you cannot refuse to let another woman 
defend her good name. 

Ada. Then I will tell you, seeing you drive me to it. I 
will tell you that I do not believe you have a good name, 
that your right name is not known here and never has been 
known ; that your life here is a lie and 

Phcebe. Oh ! 

Ada. That you dare not face the truth in regard to your 
past. 

Phcebe. Stop ! I know now to what means he has re- 
sorted in hope of saving himself. He thinks to make you 
disbelieve what I say by filling your mind with such base 
suspicions as these. But he will find that he is powerless, 
for the truth is all I ask. 

Ada. I refuse to listen to anything more. You will 
please to stand aside and let me pass. 

Phcebe {still barring her way and forcing her to re- 
main). You shall not go until you have heard me. Miss 
Ludlow, when I came to this village, three years ago, it was 
with a broken heart and a blighted life. It was also under 
an assumed name, for Phcebe Ashcroft was my mother's 
maiden name and is not my own. I was a married woman, 
— as I thought, a widow. 

Ada. A widow? 



48 FOLLOWED BY FAtM 

Phoebe. Yes, the widow of Gilbert Dayiie, Whom you 
know as Harold La Motte. 

Ada. His — wife ? 

Phcebe. I was — I am — his wife. 

Ada. I do not believe it. 

Phcebe. It is the truth. I was married to him five years 
ago in New York, where he was my father's partner in busi- 
ness. I thought I loved him, once, for my girlish eyes 
were enamored of his handsome face and I was deceived, 
as many girls have been. Alas, it was not long before my 
eyes were opened. I soon learned that he was a slave to 
almost every evil passion. He beat me and ill treated me 
in every way, till death would have been welcome. He 
killed every hope and ambition that I had ever had and al- 
most drove me to suicide. Then the worst blow of all came.. 
It was discovered that he had wronged my father, cheated! 
him out of thousands of dollars. Father had trusted him. 
implicitly and let him get everything into his own hands,, 
till at last it was too late to save so much as a dollar, and 
we were left penniless. The shock killed my father and left 
me more desolate than before. My husband was sent to 
prison. 

Ada. To — prison ? 

Phcebe. Yes, for twelve years. But he escaped and 
fled to Europe, where he met you. 

Ada. I cannot believe it. 

Phcebe. It is true. I have proofs that it is so. 

Ada (rising). But if this is true, if he is a fugitive 
from justice, how dare he return to this country, to run the 
risk ? 

Phcebe. Miss Ludlow, he was playing for big stakes — 
your fortune. More than that, he felt safe because he was 
believed to be dead. I have thought him so. 

Ada. But how? 

Phcebe. It seemed that fate favored him for a time. 
The ship on which he sailed was wrecked, and in the con- 
fusion of the disaster he changed clothes with a man who 
answered his own description, left marks upon him which 
apparently proved his identity, and thus was reported as 
drowned, and all search for him was abandoned. So you 
see, he returned here under an assumed name without fear 
of detection. 

Ada. This is a remarkable story, Miss Ashcroft, and 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 49 

one which I would fain disbelieve. But you should at least 
have the chance to prove it. If you fail 

Phcebe. I shall not fail. I have sent for a man who can 
prove all I have said. He was a clerk in my father's em- 
ploy and knew Mr. Dayne for years. He will be here to- 
day, in company with officers from the prison from which 
my husband escaped. 

Ada. Your husband ! And you thought him dead. 
Oh, it is terrible; worse for you than for me. I have es- 
caped the misery, perhaps, which has only returned to you. 
{With some tenderness, taking Phcebe' s hand.) I do pity 
you from the bottom of my heart. (Phcebe is weeping.') 
It means that your love for Seth 

Phcebe {looking up). Don't speak of that. That love 
must now be a thing unacknowledged. I must put it out of 
my heart, as he must put it out of his. 

Ada. But the law would give you a divorce. 

Phcebe. No; my husband is alive, and while he lives 
he is my husband, whatever he has done. I do not love 
him, nor pity him ; I shall show him no mercy, but I can- 
not give my hand to another while he lives. I shall go 
away from here and bear rny lot as best I can. I have noth- 
ing to live for, but I must still live. Now I will leave you, 
Miss Ludlow. It has been a painful duty which I have 
performed, but it had to be done. You may think you suf- 
fer, but mine is a misery which I pray Heaven you may 
never know. Good-bye. (She goes up to c. d.) 

Ada {following her). When — when will they ar-arrest 
him? 

Phcebe. To-day. The local officers are watching him 
and he will be arrested as soon as the prison officials arrive. 
Remember, you must not breathe a word of what I have 
told you to any one, as yet. 

Ada. No, no. I understand. 

Phcebe {looking off to r.). Some one is coming. Oh, 
Miis Ludlow, it is Seth Winslow. I cannot see him. Let 
me go. 

Ada {going to L. 2 e.). Come; this way. 

{They are about to exit, when Seth Winslow enters hur- 
riedly c. D. R. He is greatly agitated.) 

Seth. Miss Ashcroft — Phcebe ! 

Phcebe {turning and looking sadly at him) . I — I must go. 



50 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Seth. Not yet, — wait. I must speak with you. (Ada 
goes out l. 2 e. and Phcebe returns to c.) Robert has 
told me. Oh, Phcebe, is it true ? 

Phcebe. It is all true. 

Seth. But it shall not separate us. Nothing shall do 
that. 

Phcebe. Fate has done so. That man is my husband. 

Seth. But the law will free you. He no longer has any 
claim upon you. Oh, Phcebe, I cannot give you up now. 
You are my guardian angel and with your help I can be a 
better man. I have promised my brother to do differently, 
to give up my bad habits and redeem the past. I mean it, 
too, and shall stick to it. I will, Phcebe ; I swear it. But 
if I lose you 

Phcebe. Oh, Seth, you must not let that make any dif- 
ference. Do it for my sake, just the same. Though we 
must part, he can never again have a place in my heart nor 
drive you from it. 

Seth. Then free yourself from him 

Phcebe. No. Only death can do that. But I shall al- 
ways remember you, Seth, and believe in you. I know you 
will keep your word. 

Seth. I will, Phcebe, I will. 

(She places her hand on his arm, tenderly, and he stands 
with drooping head. Enter Mrs. Griggs and Robert 
Winslow l. Seeing them, Seth goes up r. ; Phcebe 
stands c., burying her face in her hands, sobbing. Mrs. 
Griggs goes to her, putting her arm about her.) 

Mrs. Griggs. You poor child. (Phcebe weeps upon 
her shoulder.') 

(Mrs. Griggs and Phcebe are down c. Robert goes up 
r. to Seth.) 

Robert. Seth, they are here. 

Seth. The officers ? 

Robert. Yes. They have followed La Motte. He is 
in the conservatory waiting to see Miss Ludlow. 

Mrs. Griggs (to Phcebe). Yes, dear; I told him he 
might see her here. 

Seth. And he suspects nothing? 

Robert. Nothing. 

Mrs. Griggs. You had better go in there {pointing to 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 5 1 

L. 2 e.), and I will call Ada and then tell him she is here. 
You, Mr. Winslow, (to Robert) may slip out and bring in 
those men. Oh, mercy me ! it's dreadful business ! I wish 
it didn't have to happen in my house, but I can't stand in the 
way of justability. 

Phcebe. It is indeed terrible, Mrs. Griggs, but it must 
be done. 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes, yes, I know. Then let it be over 
with as soon as possible. 

(Robert and Seth exeunt r. 2 e. ; Phcebe goes out l. u. 
e., Mrs. Griggs starts to exit c. d. l., but is stopped by 
Lily May, who enters r. and pauses.} 

Lily May. Oh, ma, we've come to ask your forgiveness. 
(Motioning off r.) Come on in, Walter, and tell ma. 

Mrs. Griggs. I can't be bothered now. You must 
wait. 

Lily May. We can't. We've made up our minds to 
ask you and we must do it. Mustn't we, Walter ? 

Walter {who has entered rather timidly and now stands 
at a safe distance). Y-yes. We — want your b-b-blessiag, 
Mrs. Griggs. 

Lily May. Yes, ma ; and your consent. 

Mrs. Griggs. Well, you'll have to do your pleading 
some other time. I can't stop to think about it now. 

Lily May. It won't take long, ma ; not a minute. 

Walter. No, ma — I mean, no, Mrs. Griggs, not a half 
a minute. 

Mrs. Griggs. Dear me, what do you want me to say? 

Lily May. That you forgive me. 

Mrs. Griggs. Well, I— I do, then. 

Lily May. And Walter, too ? 

Walter. Yes, and me, too? 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes, both of you. 

Lily May. Oh, ma ! (Hugging her.) And we can get 
married ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Mm,— well, that I will consider. (To 
Walter.) I have consulted Mr. Winslow about you, sir, 
and he tells me you are a likely young man and doing well. 
If Lily May's set on having you I suppose she'll have to. 

Lily May. Oh, ma, you're an angel ! (Hugging her 
more emphatically.) 

Mrs. Griggs, And you're a nuisance. Now let me go. 



52 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

Remember, you're only just engaged for a long time yet. 
Don't you begin to tease to get married till I get good and 
ready to let you. (Lily May is still hugging her.) Child, 
let me go ! (Lily May releases her and she starts to go 
out. ) 

Lily May. And oh, ma, — say ! I can keep my dressts 
down, can't I? 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes, I suppose so. 

Lily May. And my hair up ? 

Mrs. Griggs. Yes, yes; only don't bother me. Dear 
me, you're enough to drive a body to extraction ! 

(Mrs. Griggs hurries out c. d. l.) 

Lily May. There! It's all fixed. Isn't it lovely? 

Walter. Fine ! 

Lily May. We're engaged. 

Walter. Of course we are. You'll let me kiss you 
now, won't you? 

Lily May. Let you? Don't you know how to help 
yourself? 

Walter. Well, I reckon. 

Lily May. Let's see you do it. 

{He attempts to kiss her ; she runs up to c. D., into Harold 
La Motte, who is entering from l. She giggles, cries 
" Oh, excuse me ! " and runs on out, followed by Wal- 
ter. La Motte looks after them a moment, smiling 
sarcastically, then comes down. Ada Ludlow steals in 
l. 2 e. and goes up to him, looking fearfully about. She 
is pale and trembling. He notices her agitation.) 

La Motte. What is it ? You are agitated. Ah, you 
are vexed with me for being late. Is that it ? Forgive me. 
I was unable to come before. {He attempts to take her 
hand, but she draws away from him, with a shudder.) 

Ada. No, no; don't touch me ! 

La Motte. Why, what do you mean ? What has hap- 
pened ? 

Ada. I know all, — your treachery, your villainy. You 
have a wife, you have deceived me — I must never see you 
again ! 

La Motte. Who has told you this ? It is a lie ! 

Ada, It is the truth, But in spite of it all ; in spite 



FOLLOWED BY FATE 53 

of your sin, your shame, I love you. God forgive me, I 
love you still, and I will try to save you. 

La Motte {alarmed). Why, what do you mean? 

Ada. They are here, after you — the officers from the 
prison. 

La Motte. Here ! They shall never take me alive, 
never 1 

Ada. There may still be time for you to escape. 

La Motte. You will help me ? 

Ada. Yes, for I love you. Not even the fearful truth 
can kill that love, and unworthy as you are, I will help you. 
Go ! {Pointing him to L. 1 E.) This way. You will find 
the way clear there. Go to the stable, take Victor, my 
horse, and ride for your liberty. I will try and keep them 
here until you have reached a safe distance. 

La Motte. And you will do this for me, — after all? 

Ada. It is all I can do for you. It is your only chance. 
Go! 

La Motte. God bless you. 

(He seizes her hand and kisses it; she is overcome with 
passionate grief and raises her face to him. He kisses 
her brow.) 

Ada {as if struggling to regain her self-possession). Oh, 
you must fly ! Here ! Here is money, all you will need. 
Take it. {She gives him a roll of bank-notes. ) Good-bye, — 
forever ! 

{She stands with drooping head, her face buried in her 
hands ; he is about to exit l. i e. , when Phcebe Ash- 
croft appears in L. u. e.) 

Phcebe. Stop ! 

(He rushes out ; Phcebe rwis to c. d. and meets Robert 
Winslow, with officers.) 

Phcebe (pointing to l. i e). That way ! He is trying 
to escape. 

(Robert stands aside and the officers go to l. i e., where 
they encounter Ada, who stands with her arms out- 
stretched across the door. 

Ada. No ! You shall not go ! (She is appare?itly 
half unconscious of her action.) 



54 FOLLOWED BY FATE 

( The officers push past her ; she staggers to c. , falling in a 
faint. Phcebe goes to her ; Robert is in l. i e., look- 
ing off . Seth enters, c. d., followed quickly by Mrs. 
Griggs. There is a pistol shot heard off l. i e. 
Robert rushes out, followed by Seth. Phcebe stands 
c., looking l., in rigid suspense. Seth enters and goes 
to her, taking her in his arms.) 

Seth. Phcebe ! 

(She seems to understand what he means and buries her face 
on his shoulder. Robert appears in l. i e.) 

Robert. It is ended ! 

(Mrs. Griggs is up c. Lily May and Walter Gifford 
now appear in c. d. in time to hear Robert's words. 
Mrs. Griggs stretches out her arm, as if to keep them 
back, but they press forward, looking around her at 
Robert, with awe-stricken faces.) 

CURTAIN 



JUN 25 1903 




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